


Inspector . . . Collector

by Josephine March (ladyspencer)



Category: due South
Genre: F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-27
Updated: 2003-02-27
Packaged: 2018-11-11 01:22:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11138415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyspencer/pseuds/Josephine%20March
Summary: Someone defined "slash" as a non-canonical pairing, regardless of the gender of the characters being slashed. I'm adhering to that definition.





	Inspector . . . Collector

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

  
Inspector . . . Collector

## Inspector . . . Collector

by Josephine March

Author's website: http://www.fan-archive.net/amadison

Disclaimer: I'm more worried Mattel will hurt me than I am about Alliance. 

Author's Notes: Guilty secrets on a rainy night.

Story Notes: 

* * *

She was actually trembling as she turned the collar of her dark raincoat up to ward off the damp chill. She drove swiftly, expertly through the dark suburbs, handling the rain-slick pavement with practiced ease. The house was in a surprisingly good neighborhood, and she consulted her leather agenda one last time to ensure she hadn't mistaken the address. 

She nodded briefly to the dark, taciturn man who admitted her. "Back in there," he said, jerking his thumb towards the rear of the house. 

Her knees were shaking as she entered the darkened room. There, picked out by the pool of lamplight. Impossibly creamy skin, dark hair; full, firm lips; blue eyes looking calmly into her brown ones. She sucked in a shuddering breath as she pulled off her raincoat; not finding a place to hang it, she allowed it to slide to the floor. 

She drew closer, hardly daring to look, to touch. She closed her eyes, finally reaching out a finger to draw it across the slick, pink folds before exploring the riches within. 

"Name your price," she said to the man outside. She counted bills out of her wallet until he was satisfied, then fled alone and ashamed, into the dark and the rain. Her apartment would be a sanctuary after this encounter. 

She showered for a long, long time before donning deceptively innocent flannel pajamas and fixing a cup of tea. Then, with trembling fingers, she punched numbers into the phone. 

"That's right, Nance! It's the 1972 pink _vinyl_ Barbie lunchbox with original Thermos. Mint condition." She took a sip of her tea. "Well, I'm embarrassed. He had no idea what it was. I practically stole it from him. Hundred and a half." 

* * *

End Inspector . . . Collector by Josephine March:

Author and story notes above.


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